The Universe's Mixer

Billy was busy setting up his webcam for a new installment of his blog when he heard a knock on the door. He perked up hopefully, thinking that the only people who really came over were Moist and the Pink Pulverizer. Billy could really use a friend right now and so he immediately stopped working on his current set up to answer the door.

Only to find out that zombies were in fact capable of knocking.

Billy immediately slammed his door shut. A synthesized beat he was only subconsciously aware of began to play in the background and as the card carrying member of the Evil League of Evil began to ponder his predicament, he also began to sing: "You hear the door slam, and realize there's nowhere left to run. You feel the cold hold, and wonder if you'll ever see the sun. You close your eyes! And hope that this is just imagination, boy. But all the while, you hear the creature creepin' up behind-- You're Out Of Time!"

Billy could hear the moans of not just one zombie behind his door, but a chorus. He needed to find an escape and spotted his small basement window. Billy, without skipping a beat -- literally, ran to the small window and managed to squeeze out of it. In his excitement he left behind his transmatter ray gun and his freeze ray, either would have been particularly useful in this situation.

There were more zombies outside his home but Billy did his best to sneak past them. While singing. Quietly. "They're out to get you, theres demons closing in on every side. They will possess you unless you change the number on your dial. Now is the time for you and I to cuddle close together," but as Doctor Horrible looked down at his arms which were cradling the ray gun he should have had in his arms, realizing that it was not there he knew he had made a grave error, "All through the night, I'll save you from the terror on the screen, Ill make you see."

Billy bravely tried to think his way out of this situation. He began to sneak away in rhythm only to be followed by zombies matching him beat for beat. What started as sneaking slowly developed into skipping past a graveyard and then into a large, but deserted street. The synth pop melody which had kept him alive so far was replaced by screeching violins. The zombies forgot their cues and more came out from allies and around corners until Billy was surrounded. And bitten.

But only once. The bite mark on his arm looked like an enthusiastic hicky and confused the super villain for a moment until the synth beat started back up again before he could fully ponder the anticlimacticness of the attack. The zombies took their places behind Billy. And they began to dance.

Step, beat! Step, beat! Shoulder, step! Beat beat! Shoulder, step! Beat beat! Big arms, step! Arms! Arms! Step, step! Head pop! Dip down! Arm swing! Arm swing! Mouth pop! Mouth pop! Clap slide! Shoulders, arms, clap, slide! Shoulder, pop! Skip! Skip! Skip! Skip! Scary swing! Scary swing! Leg, hips! Out, in! Leg, hips! Out, in! Step, step, arms, arms! Step, step, arms, arms! And so on...

The dance was interrupted in parts by Billy's song, which as he began to turn would be his last words. "Cause this is thriller, thriller night! And no ones gonna save you from the beast about strike. You know its thriller, thriller night. You're fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller tonight. Cause this is thriller, thriller night! Girl I can thrill you more than any ghoul who's ever danced right. Woo hoo! So let me hold you tight and share a-- killer! chiller! thriller night! Cause this is thriller!"

With Billy in the lead, the zombies began to skip down the street musically in search of their next victims.

( OOC )

Being undead had it's moments.

The reaper's feelings on the current undead predicament was decidedly mixed. On one hand, there was a part of George that couldn't help but think that zombies were really cool. But this feeling of childhood glee at being involved in a real life George Romero flick was undercut by guilt. Not too much guilt. Just maybe a little. George's low income apartment complex was one of the first areas hit by the new zombie plague. Being undead herself she blended in well. No one bothered her. Literally. Gone were the noisy neighbors upstairs that threw parties at three in the morning once the bars closed, gone were the neighbors to the right of her that insisted on having loud sex competitions for who could scream the loudest.

Her zombie infested apartment was peaceful and George unrealistically hoped it would stay that way without spilling out into The City and causing larger problems. Perhaps it was better to take a look at the rest of The City. George no longer needed to lock the door to her apartment, not particularly worried that A, one of her newly undead neighbors would try to steal her crappy stereo or that B, someone would be dumb enough to walk into a zombie infested apartment complex to steal her crappy stereo.

In the hall George came across one of her neighbors.

"Hi Thomas."

"Mmmrrrrrrrrr..."

"Yeah? That's cool."

"Mnnnrrrrrr..."

"Well, just stay here and don't eat people, okay?"

"Nnnerrrrrr.."

George didn't know if her neighbor was actually named Thomas but not having anything else to actually call him, Thomas seemed pretty cool. Yesterday Thomas had a detached arm he happily chewed on which George felt necessary to confiscate from him. She was fairly certain that no one else would ever have the privilege of seeing a zombie pout before, but the reaper had. It wasn't until she met who the arm belonged to and saw the victim was not dead, just undead like the rest of her fellow tenants, that she was okay if a bit of limb swapping so long that it was each other's. She hoped it was a sign that they could be a peaceful zombie commune, until she spotted that once a zombie they seemed uninterested in chewing on each other.

George, Queen of the Zombies, took the stairs and encountered other walking corpse-like neighbors who were equally uninterested in her before stepping out onto the street. So far it was mostly quiet. Quiet was a good sign, wasn't it?

There were very strange reports coming in over the wire. Things that Jennifer had never heard about before. There was a low sense of panic rising through the city. But it was different than it had been when everybody had been dying. It was more frenzied. People were talking about bunkers and gun stashes. Stocking up on supplies. Like it was the end of the world or something.

She had a new sheet of paper on her desk every thirty minutes with new details. Things that confused her and scared her. She'd seen a lot in her life, and a lot since arriving in this strange place, but this was something that she just couldn't process right.

Her first thought was to check on Jake. It was irrational, she knew, but she was already feeling a kinship to him. She didn't want him to be hurt. So her plan was going home on her lunch break to tell him not to go outside or answer the door, and then return to work. Part of her felt stupid telling a cat to not answer the door. But he was so polite.

There hadn't been many pictures yet, but of the ones she'd seen... well, she didn't want Jake to end up like that.

Jennifer was rushing through the hallway to her door when she bumped into a man. She'd not met any of her neighbors yet, but she figured that the way he was casually strolling with keys in his hand meant that he was one of them.

"Sorry." She said sheepishly.

The bed was usually comfortable. Soft with good smelling pillows and warm blankets. Dean's eyes opened and he was greeted by the sight of a pretty blonde head, soft face and his arms around her as he held her while they slept. He laid there watching her, moving a hand to reached up and brush some hair back from her face.

He felt content and safe for the first time, even since hooking back up with his brother. He really should call Sam, let him know where he was. Not that Dean thought his brother was the least bit worried about him. He didn't even think his brother cared he was around any more which really wasn't like him at all.

Dean carefully slipped his arms from around Jo, deciding he needed to do two things. Restroom and then make coffee. He picked up his clothing as he went into the bathroom, using it and dressing partially. His jeans were on as well underwear and socks before he ventured out and padded into the kitchen.

He found the coffee maker and started preparing it, opening a cabinet door he pulled the coffee out and when he closed it, he jumped for Castiel was standing there. "Damnit, Castiel," he looked towards the room then back to him, his voice now low, "What are you doing here?"

"To warn you," The dark haired angel spoke with his soft voice.

"Warn me? About what? Sam, you already did that. Or is it Jo?" He looked towards the room.

"You are in for a battle, Dean, keep those you trust by you," He moved away from the counter. "You are gonna need them. This battle is gonna be hard, dangerous and ... eye opening." He turned to face Dean. "You are gonna need help, lots of it." He paused then stepped closer to Dean, "Choose wisely, Dean. Because the one you think, might not be the one you think."

"What?" Dean heard a noise and turned his head toward the bedroom but when he turned back to ask more, Castiel was gone. He muttered under his breath as he went back to making coffee. Maybe he should make them breakfast as well.

As soon as Catwoman left, Lee jumped down from her rooftop perch and landed solidly on the ground several floors below. She figured that her quick exit left her enough spare time to go buy those cigarettes that she had been craving. The man working the counter at the corner store was either too polite to say anything about her choice of wardrobe or used to seeing costumed people walking around buying M&Ms and Marlboros. She didn't ask which.

She paused outside the store to light up, almost smiled at the familiar sensation of it all, and headed for the bar for some beer and girl talk. Weird. She was actually looking forward to it.

Hannibal returned to his office after the emergency was over. Simon was not in tow, having had to go handle something else. He'd expected to find a nurse standing outside the door, which he did not. Already Hannibal had a feeling something bad had happened. Just from the door he could smell blood, and the monkey's agitation.

The scene was much worse when he went through the door.

He could see the blood on the monkey's face, he could see the two empty syringes on the floor. Spent of their contents. The smell of unwashed junkie flesh hung on the air, mixed in with everything else. Hannibal closed his eyes and inhaled. Got as much as he could from it. Trying to form some kind of mental picture.

He could only imagine that somebody off the street had gotten in here, mistaken what was in the business end of the needles, and injected themselves. Then, for whatever absolutely asinine reason, they'd tried to pet the monkey. The monkey had clearly bitten them.

And who knew what had happened then.

Whatever it was, somebody wandering around with the contents of the experiment running through their bloodstream, complete with a bite from the most diseased, cursed, monkey on the face of any universe, couldn't be good.

Not good at all.

Hannibal spied the box that held the cure. He grabbed it up and hid it in a locked cabinet. Then he was off to find Simon. He had to tell the other doctor about this. Even if they couldn't do anything just yet, Simon had to be ready. There was no telling.

Boyd had left the relative safety of the ER and ventured into other parts of the hospital. Which was to say that he ripped out the IV in his arm after the attending informed him that they knew he was a drug seeker and weren't going to do anything to help him out. Aside from informing the police. Then he'd turned the wrong way, gone through the wrong door, and instead of finding himself out in the night like he'd wanted to be, he'd found himself in a hallway.

A very clean hallway.

It wasn't Boyd's fault that he was an idiot or that he lost his sense of direction all the time. It was because he didn't have the drugs he needed. The drugs helped. They centered him. Made him feel things. He needed them to function. The doctors just didn't understand that.

So it couldn't really be blamed on him that he found himself standing near a door, on his way out (so he thought, it was roof access actually) when he heard voices. At first he thought they were in his head. Then he realized he wasn't smart enough to have voices like that inside. They used words that he didn't know the meaning of. Or how to pronounce. Boyd hid quickly out of sight, but somewhere he could still hear. Curiosity had gotten the best of him, and he wanted to know what the secretive tones were for.

His heart was beating so hard that he couldn't hear everything that they were saying.

".... found it? What do you mean? You couldn't..."

"Had to.... in order to complete the .... discovered the compound...."

"Remarkable... think it could be.... amazingly dangerous...."

"I have the.... see? It's also only ..... in the case of it .... and only if it falls into the wrong hands...."

"Wrong hands.... City dripping with...."

"Not like.... nobody is going to..... it's .... heroine or anything..."

Boyd's ears perked up at that. He became intensely more interested in what was going on. They'd said the magic word. Or one of them had. The drug of all drugs. The golden ticket. Far better than anything he'd put into his body thus far, that was for sure. He'd heard stories about it.

Just his luck, a nurse ran down the hall past him, right to the door. He heard her frantic voice inside now, too.

"Needed, right now!" She was much clearer. Probably because she was yelling.

"Stand right here." One of the male voices insisted as they both burst out from the room. "Don't move. Don't let anybody in."

Boyd's heart sank. He wasn't going to get his hands on it. He almost turned and left before his luck struck once more. The nurse cursed herself. Muttered something about Mr Ling's medication, then how she was sure she could get back before anybody even noticed. She took off, and that's when Boyd struck. He went through the door as fast as he could manage. The sight that greeted him was certainly nothing he'd expected. Two needles sat on the tray in the middle of the room. Both full. And a monkey. In a cage.

The monkey didn't look right somehow, but Boyd didn't care. His eyes were for the needles only. He picked one up and put it in his mouth, immediately working his veins so they would pop to the surface. The drug went in, and he felt none of the burning he'd expected to. After a moment, there was still nothing, so he picked up the second needle and did the same thing. Perhaps it was actually something, or perhaps it was just Boyd hoping for something, but he would have sworn to anybody that it was finally working.

Satisfied, Boyd dropped the needles. The monkey made a noise at him. He went to inspect the cage, sticking his fingers through to pet the thing. It turned on him, bit him. Almost bit one of his fingers off. Angrily, Boyd smacked the cage, not quite feeling the pain yet. It was time to leave. He'd gotten what he wanted, and gotten bitten by some monkey on top of it. That was what he'd call the end of his day. He needed to find a bed to sleep in so he could continue his search tomorrow. More drugs. More high. Never ending.

Boyd wasn't feeling too hot by the time he found his way back downstairs. He felt sick. Feverish. He felt cold, but knew he was sweating. The ER docs tried to stop him at first until the one who had worked on him told them he was just a junkie drug seeker. Then they let him go without a word. Boyd stumbled into the night, his wound throbbing now. Maybe he should have stopped to get it checked out.

He collapsed near the alley on the side of the hospital. Breath stopped. Heart stopped.

A woman ran over to him to see if he was okay. Boyd looked up at her. Grabbed the hand checking his pulse, and bit down.